Most betrayals end with, “You had no right to decide.”

This past month, I wrote the scenes leading up to and including the ‘All Is Lost’ moment of my novel. The secrets and lies feel so real, so visceral, and the harm they cause reminds me of everyday life.

The devastation of the aftermath scenes prompted me to think about the tiny untruths we tell our nearest and dearest for the sake of love.

You know the ones.

In the Name of Love

In real life, I’m captivated by the secrets behind the lies. Especially the lies we tell for love.

You tell yourself you’re being kind when you spot your friend’s husband at a hotel with someone else.

Things are not always how they appear.

Your sister’s boyfriend’s dating profile is still active.

She did tell you to mind your own business.

Your co-worker is about to be fired.

Why ruin her weekend?

You’re not protecting them. You’re avoiding the conversation, dodging the messenger’s blame.

You know exactly why you stay silent. It’s never about them. Are you choosing your comfort over their agency? Do you think they’re too fragile for reality? Too weak for truth?

Let’s Storyboard a Scenario

You and your friend are having lunch. She can’t stop glowing and glancing over your shoulder.

Half an hour later, the reason for her fresh highlights, extra blush, and that love bite on her shoulder arrives.

New Boyfriend!

He kisses her, so sensual and possessive, you’re uncomfortable watching, but you swoon a little inside. He orders for both of them. You arch an eyebrow. He checks his phone constantly.

You think one of two things: At least he’s here, though he’s obviously needed somewhere else. OR … he has the attention span of a flea.

Then he reaches for his wallet. The ring tan-line screams at you.
He must leave us ladies and get back to work. Another kiss. This time you’re cringing. Your friend’s eyes are all stars and possibilities.

“Isn’t he amazing?” she glows, hand on heart.

You twist yours in your lap.

Eight months since her brutal divorce. It’s the first time in forever since she’s smiled like this.

“He’s something,” you say.

Is she ignoring that tan line? Or is she too drunk on those swoon-worthy smooches to notice?

You drive home with that familiar sick feeling. The one that comes from swallowing truth.

Because you’ve been her, someone saw your married boyfriend’s tan line too. Kept quiet to keep you happy.

You found out at his wedding anniversary party.

Now you’re the friend who knows—the friend who chooses her temporary happiness over her right to truth.

In Romance, We Love the Lie . . . Until We Don’t

In my stories, the hero’s lies are foreplay. Every deception builds tension. Every secret promises a devastating reveal.

“I want your expertise.”

She’s using him for his connections.

“The threat’s been neutralized.”

She’s bait for a released stalker.

“You can trust me.”

His orders are to betray her.

We readers crave this torture. The dramatic irony intoxicates us. We know what she doesn’t. We scream at the page.

But here’s the thing. In fiction, she survives the betrayal. They have angry sex against a wall. He grovels for forty pages.

In real life? No wall sex. No forty-page grovel. Just broken trust that never fully heals.

The lies that sizzle in fiction shatter reality.

Secret Dilemmas

Romantic Suspense heroines face impossible choices. Tell the truth? People get hurt. Keep the secret? People get hurt differently.

But through every manuscript, every twisted plot, one thing becomes clear. The lie hurts more than the truth would have.

Because the truth says, “I trust you.” The lie says, “I don’t.”

And maybe that’s what all protective lies reveal. Not how much we care. But how little we trust.

Would You Rather?

Discover your partner lied about their education. No degree. Not even that school. Or never know you’re the “smart one” and they are shoving down feelings of inferiority?

At age forty, you learn you were the only adopted sibling , OR find out everyone knew but protected you?

Know your friend is living a complete double life online, OR keep believing their perfect Instagram story?

Your Turn To Confess

🫤 When did someone’s protection steal your choice? What did that betrayal cost you?

😐 What truth are you swallowing right now? Who are you protecting? Why?

🤔 If you’re feeling courageous you may even confess what moment made you realize you were the villain in someone else’s story?

Choose your confession level. But choose. Because silence is also a choice, and we both know someone’s paying for it.

I dare you. Hit reply. We’re all keeping something. And someone’s paying for our silence.

Manuscript Update

I’m speeding into the climax scenes and toward the finish line, with those two wonderful little words on the horizon…

P.S.: 👩🏾‍💻 My heroine discovers that every protective lie she tells costs more than she’s willing to pay. The hero isn’t grateful, and angry sex against the wall isn’t enough to heal those wounds.

P.P.S.: 📺 In my off-writing moments, I’m still snatching some downtime with Jaime and Claire from Outlander. I’m so impressed with the Netflix. series. Anything blowing your mind recently?

Until next time . . . . let there be . . .